The scanner's eye shifted just north of the vertical ridge on the west face, to focus on the waterfall. The western edge of the rooftop lake cascaded over the broken masonry in a silvery flood. The viewpoint moved down the torrent in jumps.
"When we finish, we'll turn this back into industry housing. Home base for the Barsoom Project. But first, we get to play with it. We'll run the California Voodoo Game from roof to basement, the biggest role-playing game ever.
"We flooded levels ten and eleven, Sharon. There'll be more flooding by the end of the game. We clean it up afterward. The waterfall, that'll stay part of the building forever. Along the crease "taptap" here we go. This was what
Meacham called 'the modular wall.' "
The view was from the desert floor, straight up the crease. A central track ran the crease, with tributaries splaying out and up like Christmas-tree branches. There were egg-shaped bulges on some tracks, each the size of a camper. Half-crushed eggs lay at the base of the building. One egg hung three hundred feet up from cables that looked no larger than threads.
Griffin spoke. "Tony, you're not going to use those?"
"Oh, hey, Griff, they're not dangerous. Not anymore. I watched the work."
"But you've got a whole apartment dangling there." He leaned closer. "Crap. That's not mine, is it?"
"Ha ha. Your apartment is down a few levels, and anchored tight, Griff. You don't trust me at all…" Could Griffin veto his use of the modular wall? "It's a mock-up, just a bedroom and office and some storage."
"Does it move? Crawl up and down the wall like the others?"
"It does that."
"It looks dangerous."
"Exciting, Griff. It looks exciting. This is a Level Ten Hazardous Environment game. They don't get tougher. Lawyers worked overtime on the waivers, believe me. If Gamers or their families even whisper 'lawsuit,' their firstborns disappear in baby-blue puffs of smoke."
"Exciting, huh?"
"Yeah." A distraction? "Griff, hope you don't mind, but I tied some of the Gaming monitors into ScanNet. Seemed a shame to waste all that wonderful full-spectrum imaging technology-"
Sharon's pretty face creased with irritation. "And how did you manage that trick?"
Griffin clucked with feigned weariness. "Don't ask, Sherry. There is madness to his methods."
Tony's grin was pure evil. "Yesss. Seems a shame not to get some use out of it. After all ScanNet will be obsolete in ten years. Five if the Japanese don't sit on their hands. Maybe three-"
"Leave the poor woman her illusions."
"Sorry, Griff. Heh heh. Anyway, even if you don't need it yet, I do, to run the Game. Is that stuff in place?"
"We're still mounting scanners. Sharon, let's do a run. Tony, you can stay or you can party." When Tony seemed inclined to stick around, Griffin added, "I'd party if I were you."
"On my way, chief." Tony saluted and spiraled out of the chair.
He was at the door in three breaths and paused there, casting a final glance behind him. Alex and Sharon were standing close together, generating enough heat to make the air shimmer.
Do you remember Acacia Garcia, Griff? She'll be here, for the Voodoo Game. Did you look at the roster, Griff? Do you know? Do you care?
Tony cared, enough for it to create a sour, aching void in the pit of his stomach. Enough to wonder where she was at that moment, and what she was doing.
The back of Acacia's neck burned with the touch of Wizard's eyes. She longed to check her coordinates on her "location finder," but dared not. She had to save that juice! Tammi would be closing in on her with lethal intent. Tammi would be expecting Acacia to prepare an ambush, or to select the best possible location to stand and fight. Neither approach would work. Tammi was too good at selecting her own sites. There would be no way to sucker the Troglodykes.
But there was one stratagem that had never been tried.
She walked rapidly and spotted a telltale reflection only an instant before her nose bumped an invisible barrier. Thump.
She edged around, both hands spread, searching for the ends of the glass. There had been nothing, just another endless crystal vista, and suddenly Acacia stood on the edge of a waterfall. Victoria Falls? Niagara, in some prehistoric age? The air churned with foam, a million acre-feet of water per second cascading into the dizzying depths.
There was no way across? Her team might well fight and die here…
"Captain Cipher!"
An odd, fat, pale little man came waddle-jogging to join her. Corby Cauldwell was as nimble as a somnambulant geriatric. He had the personal hygiene habits of a water buffalo. A bumper crop of potatoes could be grown on his scalp. But his alter ego, Captain Cipher, was not only a certifiable genius, but also one of the highest-ranking Magicians in the International Fantasy Gaming Society.
She needed him now. "There's a way across," she said urgently. "Find it for me."
Light erupted from Cipher. Its radiance revealed a loop of rope sitting on a tree branch beside the abyss.
Acacia reached for it, then hesitated. What was the trick? Was it as easy as that? She sensed nothing menacing…
"Reveal danger," the Captain whispered.
At first, nothing. Then…
"Look," Acacia whispered. On the far side of the falls danced a tongue of red fire.
"This is your baby," Cipher said happily.
Acacia retrieved the coil of rope and balanced it in her hand. There was something wrong with it-a metal bulb buried in the trip? But a quick scan by Cipher showed nothing. That meant that it was Dream Park business, not hers.
She made a long cast over the water
The rope stood straight out
And hung there, like an Indian rope trick performed on the horizontal. And then the rope elasticised, began to stretch out and out… until it connected on the other side.
Acacia's tummy did a sour little dance, recognising the next part. She reached out a sandal-shod foot and tested the cord.
It would bear her weight.
"Vision," she said brusquely. "I want magnified vision."
There on the other side of the abyss was the rope bridge. The rope didn't quite reach. Someone would have to cross and attach a lariat to the magical bridge, and then haul it back across.
Or could her team cross on the rope? Hand over hand? Tightrope walking? "Captain Cipher? Do you think that you could — ?"
"Captain Cipher loves your sense of humor," he said.
"Just checking." She shucked her pack. "All right. Let's see what we've got."
Acacia drew her sword, balancing it easily in one hand. Her Physical rating was high enough she could actually perform a fifteen-foot tightrope walk without Dream Park assistance. But in winds, and over a gorge, and in a Game-that made it a little scary.
She stepped out on the line…
Tammi stretched out a long, muscular arm and shushed her companions. There was a bridge ahead of her, a catwalk rising on crisscrossing wooden supports that rose up from a deep gorge. The bridge led nowhere, terminating against a sheer crystal cliff. A perfect location for an ambush, Garcia-style.
She looked at her wrist sensor and noted Acacia Garcia's movement pattems. Acacia was approaching the center of the Maze, but taking the long way around. Tammi's esteemed opponent was famous for direct assaults. The apparent indirection had to be a trick. To assume anything else would be suicide.
She called to the thin young man behind her. "Mouser, what do you think?"
He touched his goggles absently. "I can see a door," he said, his voice adolescently nasal. "I think I can riddle the lock, or break it."